Daily Life

Qin Wangchuan walked down the street; the sun was already high in the sky.

His stomach growled twice, and he turned and headed towards the Town East End.

As I turned the corner, I saw that familiar figure.

Uncle Lu was bending over to add firewood to the stove, wearing a faded apron.

The stall was at the intersection at the Town East End, with two long tables, several benches, and a stove made of bricks with a large Iron Pot on top.

The water in the pot hadn't boiled yet, but steam was already rising from it.

During the fast-forwarded period, Qin Chuan often came here to eat noodles.

The noodles are hand-rolled, and the meat in the sauce is cut into large chunks; the ingredients are never skimped on.

I wonder what it tastes like.

Now, he wants to give it a try.

Qin Wangchuan walked over and sat down on the bench.

The wooden bench creaked.

Upon seeing the visitor, Uncle Lu stirred the boiling water with his long chopsticks, looked up, and smiled at him.

"Qin Chuan is here."

"Yes." Qin Wangchuan nodded. "Uncle Lu, I've changed my name. Qin Wangchuan now."

"Change name?"

Uncle Lu placed his long chopsticks on the rim of the bowl, turned around, and said, "Qin Wangchuan... that name sounds grand."

"Your dad would be so happy if he knew."

He sighed as he spoke, his tone turning somber:

"Your father, he's just too deeply involved."

"If only it were back then..."

He had barely begun speaking when a woman carrying a bamboo basket came out from behind and nudged him with her elbow.

Uncle Lu paused.

She glanced at her, then at Qin Wangchuan, swallowed the rest of her words, and turned to get the noodles.

"It's nothing, let's not talk about it."

Qin Wangchuan took the bowl of noodles, the steam rising onto his face.

He lowered his head, took a sip, chewed twice, and then looked up at the two of them.

"It's fine."

The voice was soft, and the tone was steady.

"The past should be remembered."

"Uncle Lu, feel free to bring up my father's matter. I won't avoid it, nor will I forget it."

"But I will continue on this path."

Uncle Lu paused for a moment, then grinned, though his eyes were a little red.

"Well."

He patted Qin Wangchuan on the shoulder, turned around and went back to the stove, his voice a little muffled, "Then eat more, you'll have the strength to walk when you're full."

Aunt Lu watched from the side without saying anything more.

I just picked out a few tender greens from the bamboo basket and placed them by the stove, saving them for when he makes noodles.

Qin Wangchuan finished the bowl of noodles, and it was indeed delicious.

The noodles were chewy, the broth was thick and white, and the diced meat in the sauce was stir-fried until fragrant and crispy.

He wiped his mouth and looked up.

Uncle Lu was greeting the new guests.

"Old Lu, a bowl of noodles, please."

"Okay."

Qin Wangchuan didn't say much, put down twenty-five coins, got up and left.

By the time Uncle Lu turned around from in front of the stove with the bowl of noodles, Qin Wangchuan had already walked more than ten steps away.

He glanced down at the few copper coins on the table, paused for a moment, then frowned, took the money, and walked over to Aunt Lu, his tone slightly reproachful:

Didn't I tell you not to take his money?

Aunt Lu was picking vegetables and didn't even look up. "Did I collect these?"

"Who collected it?"

He put it there himself.

Aunt Lu put the vegetables she was carrying into the basket, patted the mud off her hands, and muttered:

"I didn't even notice when he left."

Uncle Lu opened his mouth, as if to say something, but Aunt Lu sighed first and took over, "Besides, don't meddle in other people's business."

"That child just lost both parents, what's wrong with taking care of him?"

"What I mean is—" Aunt Lu looked up, "Does he seem like someone who needs to be taken care of?"

Uncle Lu fell silent.

"That child has been sensible since he was little."

Aunt Lu picked up the bamboo basket, turned around and walked behind the stove. "If you force it on him, he'll feel like he owes you something."

Uncle Lu looked down at the few copper coins in his hand and sighed.

"Even the most sensible child is still a child; they need to eat too..."

While the two were arguing, Qin Wangchuan had already walked far away.

He strolled slowly along the town's cobblestone path.

I passed by a general store and a butcher shop.

As Qin Wangchuan passed Zhang the butcher's shop with half a pig hanging on the ground, he slowed down.

After thinking about it, I decided to go over and say hello.

Zhang the butcher was picking bones when he heard footsteps. He looked up, saw Qin Wangchuan, grinned, and his voice was so loud it could be heard halfway down the street:

"Qin Chuan, would you like some meat? It's freshly slaughtered!"

Qin Wangchuan shook his head. "No, Uncle Zhang, I live alone and can't eat much."

"How about I cut you a small piece? It'll be good for soup."

"Really, no need." He paused, "By the way, Uncle Zhang, I've changed my name. From now on, Qin Wangchuan."

"Change your name?" Butcher Zhang put down his knife, wiped his hands on his apron, and said, "I still think the old one sounded better and was easier to pronounce!"

"Whatever you want. Anyway, if you want to eat meat in the future, come find your Uncle Zhang."

Qin Wangchuan nodded, said nothing more, and continued walking forward.

It might be because of Uncle Zhang's enthusiasm, or it might be because of the weather.

The sun felt warm and cozy on my skin.

He wasn't walking fast, and he didn't have any particular destination; he was just walking.

Several women were chatting on the doorstep. When they saw Qin Wangchuan walking over, their voices lowered, and their gazes fell on him before shifting away.

Needless to say, they're definitely talking about themselves.

Pretending not to see them, I walked past them.

As I walked, I encountered two girls walking together.

We met when we were in private school.

He looked familiar, but we hadn't spoken much.

One of them slowed down upon seeing Qin Wangchuan, his eyes brightened, and he took the initiative to greet him:

"Qin Chuan, I heard about your family situation. Please accept my condolences."

His tone was tinged with regret, but the last syllable rose slightly, as if he were hiding something else.

The girl next to him kept her head down and didn't say anything, only occasionally glancing at him.

Qin Wangchuan's face and physique were already quite rare in this small town.

Tall and slender, with handsome features.

He usually has a gentle demeanor, and no one has ever seen him lose his temper.

Such people may not seem very popular in public, but behind the scenes, everyone wants to get close to them.

But he wasn't interested.

The two exchanged a few more casual words, nothing more than "What are your plans for the future?" and "Are you getting used to living alone?"

Qin Wangchuan responded to each of them, his tone gentle and polite, yet tactful.

Seeing that he was polite but remained indifferent, the girl gradually stopped talking.

She's a young woman, after all, and easily embarrassed; it wouldn't be appropriate to say anything more.

She lowered her eyes, whispered "Take care," and then took her companion's hand and left.

Qin Wangchuan bowed respectfully and watched them depart.

Just a moment ago, I felt the sun was shining brightly, and the warm sunshine felt wonderful on my skin.

But then the wind suddenly picked up and started blowing harder, which was a bit annoying.

He turned around and kept walking.

I'm too annoyed to browse anymore, I'll go find materials for Draw Talismans.

Following my memory, I went to the paper shop in town.

Willow Creek Town has produced many scholars, and its paper trade was quite large.

The storefront has three rooms, and above the counter are neatly stacked various sizes of Xuan paper, rough-edged paper, and yellow paper.

After entering, Qin Wangchuan looked around but didn't rush to make a move.

For other talismans, the paper and ink must be of the highest quality; even slightly inferior materials will affect the success rate of creating a successful talisman.

But the Gathering Spirit Talisman is different.

It itself has little power.

It simply involves drawing in the Spiritual Qi scattered throughout the world; no particularly precious materials are needed.

Of course, it would be even better if there were rare ones, and the range would be broader.

Unfortunately, it's not available now.

I had pen and ink at home, so I chose ten relatively sturdy sheets of yellow paper and went to pay.

The shopkeeper wasn't there; a waiter was sitting behind the counter, head down, working on an abacus.

Seeing Qin Wangchuan approach, he looked up, glanced at him, and fiddled with the abacus beads a few times:

"Seventy coins."

So expensive!

But there's nothing we can do about it.

Qin Wangchuan nodded, counted out some copper coins from his sleeve, and placed them on the counter.

Just as I was about to leave, the curtain beside me was lifted.

"Qin Chuan?"

Turning around, I saw it was Manager Li—the one who had helped raise the money last night.

He was wearing a gray cloth long gown with the cuffs rolled up, and he held a pen in his hand, his fingertips stained with ink.

"You've come at the perfect time, could you write something for me?"